


Forty-first Time's the Charm

by coffeehousehaunt



Series: The Fine Art of Not Killing Your Road Trip Buddy [1]
Category: Lost Girl
Genre: Biting, Crack, Driving, F/F, Hatesex, Lost Girl Kink, PWP, Sex while driving, Valkubus - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 02:50:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeehousehaunt/pseuds/coffeehousehaunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Take one long road trip, add two powerful fae with control issues and generous amounts of sexual tension, and shake. Result: Cranky Valkubus. PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forty-first Time's the Charm

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for a prompt on the Lost Girl Kink meme: "Valkubus sex while one is driving... with biting".

"Are we there yet?" 

Tamsin shoots Bo a glare. "You didn't pick up a parasite at that truck stop, did you?" 

"No." Bo sighs overdramatically and stares out the passenger window into a solid wall of trees. "I mean, probably. But not that kind of parasite." She whips her head back around so fast Tamsin's amazed she hasn't gotten whiplash yet. "Can I drive?"

Plaintively, for the fortieth time. Not that she's counting, or anything. Tamsin white-knuckles the truck's steering wheel to stifle the backhand she feels gathering. Frankly, she should get a medal for holding out this long. They've been at this for a few hundred kilometers now. Bo's gotten exponentially more annoying since Tamsin made it clear to her that she wasn't allowed to drive at all. 

" _No._ " 

"It's a thousand-plus-kilometer drive! And you're going to do it all yourself? All at once?" It was incredulous the first two times. Now it just sounds an awful lot like a wife one of her "heroes" had. Funny how she can remember the wife, but not the man. 

"I've done worse." She mutters. Then, snidely, "Besides, I've been on the road longer than you've been alive. Literally." 

Bo snorts. "No wonder you're a crotchety old fart." 

"Bite me." 

There's a sharp pain in the meat of her upper right arm. The backhand she's been holding in this whole damn trip slips out, and her forearm slaps across Bo's collarbone. Hard. 

"Ow!"

"Ow!" 

"Mother _fucker_! Did you _pass_ your Dawning?" She's ready to end the succu-slut then and there. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" 

Bo gives her a glare worthy of a seventeen-year-old, and Tamsin wonders if she really didn't pick up a parasite. "I am not sitting in this goddamned passenger seat the whole way there." 

"Fine." Tamsin snaps. "Then you can get out and _walk_ the fuck back to Trick, and I'll take care of this myself." 

She doesn't pull over. Bo huffs, settles back into her seat and goddamn slick leather jacket like an irritable oversexed owl, and fixes her gaze out the window. Tamsin's impressed the windshield hasn't boiled away yet. 

Or puddled into her lap and fallen in love with her. Bitch. 

They settle into a disgruntled silence. Tamsin can still feel pain radiating from the bite. Not as intensely as before, but the whole area feels hot, and it's radiating along her nerves and gathering... 

Great. Now she's horny in a closed cab with the succubus she wants to throttle. Who, with her luck, can probably tell that she's turned on. She shifts, trying to find a position that won't ache dully and amplify the tension that's started to build. Why wasn't Dyson sent? She wouldn't mind this at all with him. Hell, she'd probably pull over at the next damn truck stop and ride him til he couldn't stand. Boy could use a good fuck. 

She considers letting Bo drive just so she can be blacked-out drunk for this. 

Nah. She could do this drunk. 

* * * 

The quiet that follows for a while is utter bliss to Tamsin, and she doesn't believe in bliss anymore. That and butterflies. That shit just didn't feel as sharp sometime around her fourth lifetime. Now, however many lifetimes later--well, she can barely remember what the big deal is. 

Except that for the last hundred or so kilometers, the tension from the bite has taken on a life of its own; no matter how she shifts, how she sits, she can feel her pulse rising between her legs, heat gathering between her thighs. And with the bitch responsible riding shotgun, there's nothing she can do about it. Somehow, that makes it all the more intense. Unavoidable. And damn if that doesn't just make her want to wring Bo's pretty little neck. 

And then it starts again. Bo takes a different tack-- _finally_ \--but she's already beaten it to death, so Tamsin's immediately ready to beat _her_ to death. 

"Tamsin--" 

" _I said no._ " 

Bo looks amused, which only increases Tamsin's desire to throttle her. "Yeah, I got that. What I was trying to say is--" her fingers trick over Tamsin's forearm and she almost gets slapped again. Touching a cranky Valkyrie's not the smartest idea, and Bo doesn't seem to realize that. The light contact and stifled reflex sends jumping electric shocks through the muscles in Tamsin's arm. "--I'm bored. What _can_ I do?" 

Tamsin sees where this is headed. Of course. Stuck in a car with a bored succubus who's determined to distract, irritate, and otherwise drive Tamsin to a diagnosis. What else is gonna happen? 

"Really?" Not her smartest comeback, but it's pretty much exactly how she feels about that. Bo needs to pick up her game, if that's what she thinks will get Tamsin going. 

Never mind that she already is. 

The amused look turns into a lazy smirk. Bo's not even fazed. "What, are you afraid you'll lose control or something?" 

Tamsin has to turn and look to make sure Bo's serious. She seems serious. And completely unaware of the fact that they're rapidly approaching the point where one of them is going to die, and it won't be Tamsin. Tamsin snorts derisively. "If you think a little roadhead's enough to make me lose control, you've got a _lot_ to learn." 

"Was that a challenge?" Her voice lowers just enough to send shivers over the skin of Tamsin's arms. 

Dammit. She walked into that one. "We're going over a hundred kilometers an hour out here. Even _if_ you could--which you can't--d'you really want me to lose control while I'm driving?" That sounds lame, even to her. She's never been one to back down from a challenge. 

Bo doesn't miss a beat before throwing down. "No. I just think you're full of shit." 

Tamsin actually laughs at that, knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. "Oh, you're _on_. You're gonna learn some respect." What the hell. Girl's got Tamsin's number after all. And it beats slowly going homicidal, if only slightly. "Do me, bitch." 

"Seductive." Bo cracks. Then again, Tamsin just might kill her anyways. She glares at Bo again, and this time, when their eyes lock, all that killing instinct rushes through her from head to foot and takes up with the pulse between her legs and dammit, she's ready _now_. Bo watches back for a long moment, and Tamsin can feel a flush spreading over her cheeks under that dark brown gaze. She's never been one for waiting. 

"You getting cold feet, succubus? Or did you forget the mechanics?" Her voice is unmistakably husky, even if it's still tight with anger. So much for playing it cool. Bo's lips just curl into something that could be a snarl, could be a sneer, and Tamsin draws in her breath and holds it without meaning to as Bo leans in slow, drawing it out. 

Her tongue traces the raw circle where she bit earlier. Tamsin lets her breath out slowly, keeping her eyes on the road, as Bo sucks at the hurt skin and her tongue swipes and presses and brings the nerves back to life, teases at them until they're bright and just the right side of pain--

" _Shit._ " Tamsin swears as Bo scrapes the sensitized skin with her teeth, white heat shooting down into her fingers. She's found a nerve, and she knows it. Bo's mouth twists against her. 

"Keep it on the road, Detective." That _voice_. It runs straight through her belly like a velvet cord with rose thorns, pulls with an amused twist and takes some of her with it on the way out. She doesn't have to look to know that Bo's eyes are glowing blue. 

"Shut up and bite me again." Eyes on the road. They've left the trees behind for the most part. Now all she's got is the horizon and the long grass. 

This time isn't nearly so gentle, but Tamsin's perfectly okay with that. She lets out a satisfied hiss as Bo's teeth close on her flesh. Not as hard as she'd like, but she's assuming Bo's going to get to that. Soon. Or she'll be back to homicidal. She shifts her weight to her left foot, down against the floorboard, leaving her right leg relatively free of tension. 

Which is good, because Bo chooses that moment to bite down brutally, and muscles spasm in a line from her neck to her wrist. It takes all her effort to keep the truck going in a straight line. She lets that hand drop to the bottom of the wheel. The back of Tamsin's head hits the headrest and her hips twitch upwards, and she's not sure what sound falls out of her, but she knows one does. A feral, tense grin spreads across her face. 

"Yeah," she husks. "Yeah." 

She can see Bo's eyes flash blue this time, before she turns her head like a cat and strikes again, at the same spot. It _hurts_ , abusing bruised skin far past the point of pleasure, and a strangled _ah_ sound escapes her mouth. Bo sucks at the fresh bruise, and Tamsin thinks there might be lightning in her mouth, the way her arm goes numb down to her palm and electricity flares through her back. It hits the nerve at her hip and joins up with the road-sore muscles in her ass and legs and suddenly all the tension and every ache in her body is wired direct to the sudden sense of emptiness in her cunt. She grinds down against the seat for friction, but it just throws the aching shape inside her into sharper definition. Damn. It'll be hard for Bo to fuck her at this angle. 

She has a feeling that was her plan all along, though. Succu-bitch. 

Bo works up the back of Tamsin's arm, teeth digging into delicate places and making her hiss, press down, clench, back arching. It's like she's got a bead on exactly where the major nerves are. All she has to do is drag her tongue roughly over the fresh hickey on the tender skin next to the joint at the back of her arm where it meets her shoulder, and muscles all the way down to her toes jerk. Her eyelids fall to slits, but the truck barely twitches. _God_ , she's good with her mouth. Apparently her talents aren't all about deception. 

Tamsin shifts slightly against the seat. Bo's licking another mark into the front of her shoulder. The vibration from the road's not helping anything, and she's gonna have a wet spot on her jeans soon. She can feel herself swollen and tender and she wants--

 _Fuck_. Bo sinks her teeth into the muscle of Tamsin's neck, and this time, her hand joins in, grabs Tamsin's hip, fingers digging into the delicate space just inside her hipbone, forcing her back against the seat. Tamsin snarls and arches, fighting against her hand, curving her neck into Bo's mouth, losing her sight for a moment in the starburst of pain and the _clench-open-throb_ in her cunt, the protest of her nerves that she ignores. Her hips relax minutely, she can see the road wide open and flat ahead of them to the horizon, and the rush of need into her cunt, that tight emptiness that feels overwhelmingly huge, is the sweetest feeling, drives a near-growl from her throat and her hips back against Bo's merciless grip. She rides it. 

Bo thinks just turning her on will undo her. Girlfriend's got a lot to learn. 

Tamsin shudders as the upward swipe of Bo's tongue brings the nerves in her neck awake like a fireworks show, teeth puntcuating like a mortar shell. Then she does growl, a wordless _where the hell'd you go_ , when the vise of Bo's hand against her hip releases, along with her mouth, leaving only a painful throbbing that promises to be one hell of a bruise tomorrow. Hot sharp lines of pain score across her stomach, and she gasps, muscles contracting. Bo's nails. She can practically see the trails of bright red pain over her skin. Another neon scrape, this one starting at her left hip and curving up, ending over her ribs on her right side. She arches into it, stretching the contact out, more skin to mark, more deep red lines across her belly. 

Bo's nails are frustratingly light as they skim up under her shirt to her breasts. Once they're under her bra, though, they're blissfully rough, biting at the soft skin, palming and squeezing, fingers twisting her nipples and sending sparks straight to her clit. This time, her gasp finds a voice, turns into a choked moan, something that absolutely does _not_ trail off into a whimper as Bo's mouth returns to her neck. The combination of her teeth working the spot below her ear and her fingers on her nipple draws heat out of thin air, fills it up like water, sends it all south where it builds and builds and she can't get _any_ friction, goddammit, and she's leaving a wet spot on the seat. 

Maybe she should _make_ Bo drive after this. 

She sucks her breath in hard to stifle the groan she feels climbing her throat when Bo's hands and mouth vanish again, leaving her stunned and aching. 

It comes out anyways, when Bo's teeth lock onto her thigh through her jeans. " _Fuck._ " Her mouth is so close to where Tamsin wants it. 

Bo can't get to anything _useful_ with her mouth at this angle, but she makes the best of it, if "best" means reducing Tamsin to a throbbing, incoherent mess, hips rolling in involuntary half-thrusts and hands gripping the steering wheel so hard the vinyl creaks. 

Tamsin takes a shuddering breath to steady herself in a pause between bites. Breaking the steering wheel not really the slickest move here. 

Then Bo's fingers jab hard against the seam of her jeans over the entrance of her cunt, and a low, thick moan tears itself out of her chest, hips fucking down against Bo's hand, eyes closing momentarily. Her death grip on the steering wheel comes in handy, because the only things she's aware of are Bo pressing into her through her jeans, and her hands aching on the wheel. She's fairly certain they're still traveling in a straight line. 

And she's _completely_ certain Bo needs to be deeper inside her. 

"Fucking goddammit," she pants. "Get to it and fuck me already." 

"Ask nicely." It's a purr in her ear that wraps around her throat and holds like slick velvet. She suspects only smug succubi can make that sound. Her vision bends, like there's really something wrapped around her throat. 

Tamsin growls, shaking it off. "No. Fuck me. Now. And hard." 

"Say it." There's a note of steel in that voice now. Command. _Damn_ , girl is good. 

"Now." She snarls. "This is _not_ a negotiation." She grinds down, but Bo moves her hand just far enough away that she can feel her fingers, but can't get what she needs. 

Bo pouts, and Tamsin can feel it shiver over her skin, pluck something deep inside of her, strings stretched from heart to cunt, singing how _good_ it would feel to surrender, to give in. Girl's becoming less and less sexy twentysomething by the moment and more and more Fae, more unearthly. Scary part is, Tamsin doesn't even think Bo realizes what she's doing. 

She's got to admit, it turns her on. What can she say? She's always had a thing for monsters. It's part of why she's Dark Fae. 

"Nice try, Succulette. You're good." She swallows, willing her voice not to shake with need. "But playtime's over. Let's get on with the show." 

Bo laughs in her ear. Genuine shock, but it still goes right through her. Tamsin bites her lip to hold in the _please_ she feels welling up. That's not her. "Damn. We'll work on that later." 

Any snappy comeback Tamsin might've had flies out of her head when Bo pops the button on her jeans and rips the zipper open, grabs her jeans where the zipper and seam meet in a Y and yanks them clear off her ass and halfway down her thighs. The air feels cold against her skin, the wetness Tamsin can feel slicking her thighs, and her hips rock upwards of their own volition, legs spreading as much as the denim will allow. It's all she can do to hold her eyes open. She hangs there for a moment, exposed and wanting and struggling to think past the need. 

A gasp when Bo's fingers part her lips, eyes closing involuntarily. She's soaked. And swollen. She moans a curse when Bo circles her clit, finding a rhythm, drawing the tension in with tight circles. Her eyes fly open and focus on the road with everything she's got. She's close. Forcing herself to look at the road stretches it out, from when she feels her muscles tauten and go white-hot to when they give, spasm, pulling her back into an arch and shuddering against the seat, Bo's hand, snarling and swearing. Her eyes flicker, but aside from that, she manages to keep them open and on the road. 

But Tamsin's not done yet. And Bo knows it. She shifts, moves her arm to some position that looks uncomfortable as hell, and then Tamsin doesn't care anymore because two of Bo's fingers are inside her, curling and pushing, and she's lifting her hips and pressing her anchor foot into the floor and fucking herself on them. Again, her muscles start pulling tighter, molding themselves around Bo's fingers, thighs going rigid around her wrist, and Bo keeps pressing at that spot, fucking into her, and then Tamsin's breaking, clenching around Bo's hand and grinding, and she can't hold her eyes open anymore because she's coming too hard. 

When her vision clears, Bo's leaning her shoulder against the steering wheel to steady it, with her arm still at an awkward angle between Tamsin's legs. Bo gives her a bright, strained smile when Tamsin meets her eyes, then pulls her hand away. It looks a bit ridiculous. Completely, actually. But she still has to bite her lip to hold in a pleading sound when she feels Bo's fingers slide out, leaving her empty.

Tamsin snorts, bracing to pull her jeans over her ass and checking to make sure all her limbs are in place. They are, truck's in its right lane, and aside from her vision, everything was solid through that. She's thoroughly impressed with herself. And, alright, Bo. She doesn't usually let herself come that hard during these games. She turns her attention back to Bo and says the first thing that comes to mind. 

"Y'know, if you wanted to drive _that_ bad, you could've just asked."

**Author's Note:**

> Not set at any particular point other than post-3x09; obviously, they're in a truck, but I don't think it's necessarily the same truck as the one Tamsin totaled in 3x13.


End file.
